Blame it on Barq's
by WaffleOfMusic
Summary: Something strange is definitely brewing in the Marauder's circle... T for language and thoughts, and possibly actions, who knows? Of slash goodness
1. Glares, Soday, and Mad Crazy Sex

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. One of them, known as The Cheese Spirit, belongs to Léa, a.k.a. crazygirl47, a.k.a. The Most Awesome Fanfic Writer in the Universe (or one of them, as I'm not sure I'm authorized to make that kind of judgment) who wrote the fanfic "The Prank War." If you don't read it, I will bite you. And not in a good kinky way. Because I don't like that kinda stuff.

Everyone else belongs to J.K. Rowling, yada yada, boo-hoo. Notmine. Don'tsue.

**Chapter 1: Glares, Soda, and Mad Crazy Sex**

"No, Sirius, this time you've gone TOO FAR! I can't let you do this! Do you have _any _idea how much trouble you'd be getting into?" The sixth-year Gryffindor pounded up the stairs to the boys' dormitories, following an evilly grinning Sirius Black.

"As a matter of fact, I do know. I won't be getting into any trouble, dear old Moony," laughed Sirius as he threw an arm around his friend's shoulder, "because _I won't be getting caught! _Brilliant how that works, mate." The two Marauders headed into the room, and Sirius proceeded to rifle through his trunk. "Aha, here it is!" He proclaimed, thrusting his can of Barq's root beer (a rather peculiar fizzy Muggle drink) up into the faded rays of September sun. "D'ya want some, Remus?"

"Good lord, no, Padfoot. I don't see how you can stand the stuff," Lupin pushed the can away from him. He had tried it once, and it felt like he was drinking cold fire--and then came the belching, which was, admittedly, rather fun, but still not worth the burning in his throat. "And you still shouldn't pull that prank; even if you don't get caught, _which you will_," --he glared at Sirius-- "it would be cruel. Yes, even for Snape. Promise me you won't do that to him."

Black chewed his lower lip in thought for a moment, grinning mischievously. "PROMISE!" the werewolf finally barked at him, brandishing his glare-of-death, and Sirius held his hands up in defeat.

"All right, I promise, I won't pull that on Snape," he surrendered, crossing his fingers behind his back. Trying to change the subject, he asked, "hey, where'd Prongs go?"

"I'm right here," James called from behind the curtains of his bed. He was sitting on his bed with his back to his friends, who only just realized that their favorite Potter was holding something in his lap and frantically moving his right hand up and down.

"JAMES POTTER! Are you--_mas--_" a flustered Remus fired.

"No, no, it's not what you think--"

"Jesus, Prongsie, in the middle of the afternoon?"

"Oh, for god's sake--guys, I'm trying to stir this stupid potion!"

There was an uncomfortable, if slightly relieved, moment of silence before Sirius plowed on: "What in the bloody hell are you making a potion for? We haven't even had our first _exam _in Potions! Come on, Jamesy dearest," Sirius hopped onto James's bed, peering into his cauldron. "What _is_ that you're brewing, why, and **what**," he sniffed the air, "is that stench?"

"It wasn't me!" squealed Peter, whom no one had seen come in.

The three boys rolled their eyes. "Relax, Wormtail," Potter coughed. "It's this potion, and it's none of your business what it is or why I need it."

"Ri-ight. Well, then, mate, we'll simply grab this book and be on our way--_LEVICORPUS!_!" Sirius whipped around, pointing his wand at James, who found himself swinging dangerously from his ankle. "Are you _sure_ it's none of our business, Potter?"

James glared daggers at his black-haired friend, but it didn't really have the effect that he wanted it to, seeing as his head was filling up with blood and half-hidden beneath his robes, which had flipped up. "Bugger off, Padfoot!" he snarled, only to find himself twirling in circles like an upside-down ballerina. "Isalfpshnfrilly…"

"What's that, Potter? We couldn't quite hear you." Sirius stopped James's midair swaying, but kept him suspended by his ankle.

"Izalofpshnfrly!" James repeated, obviously not wanting to be understood. Sirius flashed an eager, cheesy smile and cupped his ear melodramatically.

"IT'S A LOVE POTION! FOR LILY! BECAUSE I LOVE HER! AND WANT TO HAVE MAD CRAZY SEX WITH HER! AND BABIES!" James finally hollered, fed up with his friends. "There! I said it! Are you happy now!"

The three Marauders exchanged unreadable glances, and James fell back onto his bed with a PLUNKET. "Is that all? Geez, James, when are you ever going to get over that Evans chick?"

James glared at Sirius. "I am never going to 'get over her,' because I love her. Just because _you _haven't had a decent snog in years, doesn't mean I don't plan to." He grinned, knowing that later he would probably pay for roasting Black. "Anyway, Wormtail, is the coast clear?"

"Yeah, James, no one's there. Should I stand lookout just in case…?..." Peter held the Marauder's Map out to Potter.

"Sure, Peter. Let's go," James said, wrapping himself in his silvery invisibility cloak. A newly disembodied voice explained, "I realized I don't have any porcupine quills, so I'm going to nick some from the Potions classroom." On his way to the stairs, not forgetting his embarrassment, he added, "by the way, Moony, Sirius had his fingers crossed."

He left, smirking under his cloak, as Peter scurried out of the line of fire of a raging Remus.

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A/N I would've made this longer, but it seemed like a perfect stopping point and I'm lazy. So there. Will post next chapter within two days, I swear!


	2. Masochistic Sugar

**Chapter Two: Masochistic Sugar**

A/N: Sorry, this chapter is really wimpy; I could chalk it up to writer's block, which I do have, but it's also because I'm leaving for NYC (Broadway won't know what hit 'em!) and have been busy as a result. But I promise it'll get better when I get back: Also, this isn't going to be as boring as it seems. A new character is about to come in--just hold on!

Disclaimer::is lazy and copies it from the first chapter: I don't own any of these characters. One of them, known as The Cheese Spirit, belongs to Léa, a.k.a. crazygirl47, a.k.a. The Most Awesome Fanfic Writer in the Universe (or one of them, as I'm not sure I'm authorized to make that kind of judgment) who wrote the fanfic "The Prank War." If you don't read it, I will bite you. And not in a good kinky way. Because I don't like that kinda stuff.

Everyone else belongs to J.K. Rowling, yada yada, boo-hoo. Notmine. Don'tsue.

"Padfoot, you _promised!_" Lupin shouted, almost whining. "Come on, what is wrong with you? Why are you always attacking Snape?"

Sirius broke into a relaxed grin. Remus _humfed_ at his friend; how could Sirius always stay calm? Maybe it was the werewolf in him, but Remus was always quick to act where Black barely flinched at anything. "I don't think that's the question here. What I wonder is, why are **you**" --he waggled a finger at Remus-- "so quick to defend Snape?" Sirius cast his classmate a knowing look. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

In Sirius's defense, he had no clue what he had invoked. Something in Remus stirred, his eyes flashed fire, and before you could say, "defensive about his possible sexuality!" (which, arguably, takes a while to say) the werewolf lunged at Sirius, knocking the root beer out of his hands. While the can soared through the air and landed in James's cauldron, muffled cries of "never---dare--(oomf)--imply---going--KILL" shot out while an irate Remus savagely tore at Sirius. Robes, wand, eyeballs--anything was fair game for the werewolf's surprisingly sharp nails.

Just when Sirius thought he'd never make it out of the dormitories alive, a loud POP and _FIZZZZZZZZ_ sound brought both of the boys to a stop. They looked at each other, Remus still pinning Sirius onto the floor, looked at the source of the noise, and clambered to the cauldron on James's bed. "Shit, man," Sirius breathed, staring in awe at the writhing substance. "_Accio Barq's!" _And a beaten soda can flew through the air again, but this time out of the cauldron and into its owner's hand.

"It can't make that much of a difference, can it?" he looked at Remus, who seemed to have got over the shock and was now thinking away. "There wasn't that much left…" Now, Sirius grabbed his friend's robes in desperation. "Come on, Moony, when Potter finds out he'll skin me alive! Think of anything, _something!" _

Remus didn't say a word as he turned this situation over in his mind. It wasn't that he was too mad at Sirius to help him out; Marauders always stuck together, no matter what. The truth was, Granger-like as he may be (though he didn't know that at the time, as her parents hadn't even met yet), he had absolutely no clue what effect root beer could have on a love potion. _I mean, how was I supposed to know that stupid Muggle drink even existed? _He thought to himself. _Not to mention all the different kinds there must be, stupid muggles with their masochistic sugar…_Soon he woke up to Sirius staring at him intently, _interesting, how much he looks like a little boy when he's in trouble, _and decided he had to give some sort of an answer.

"Padfoot, I….uh….er….I don't know." Remus almost slapped himself. _What was that? Jeez, Lupin, what's going on with you lately? _

Sirius seemed to have the same thoughts. "What do you mean you **don't know?**" He was seriously (ha! Ha! Funny! Sirius…serious…Siriusly…snort I mean….erm…yes. Goes back to boring inside-Remus's-head narrator duties) starting to look frantic now. "You're knowledge-boy! You…you…" He made frenzied motions with his arms, and it looked to Remus as if he was having a seizure or trying to disco. Seizure-disco. With strobe lights. Giving up that, he merely panted, "you know stuff!"

Remus deadpanned this black-haired boy and tried his best not to laugh. "Sorry, Sirius! Look, it doesn't seem like it's ready to decapitate anyone yet. It might just make him act a little funny, or it might not do anything at all. If he gets closer to drinking it and it looks too deadly, then we'll tell him. But I don't think we should now--it looks like he's been working on this for days. Oi--" he nervously laughed, trying to bring things back to normal (hey, seeing Sirius pale and terrified is…well, terrifying), "I feel sorry for Lily. The way this is going, either he's going to end up with a restraining order, or they're going to be married."

"Hey, they'd probably get a nice little house in the 'burbs--"

"White picket fence--"

"With lawn gnomes--"

"No, flamingos!"

"Flamingo?"

"--Yeah, it's this thing muggles do with plastic and those pink birds that stand on one leg."

"…….Oh…."

"….."

"And 2.5 kids!"

"They'll probably all have nauseating names--"

"Sinead--"

"Gus--"

"Harry!"

"HARRY!" The boys cackled until they couldn't breathe.


	3. Who Loves Root Beer?

**Who Loves Root Beer? Sirius Loves Root Beer!**

A/N: I'm BACK, baby! NYC was awesome, I saw RENT, Beauty and the Beast, and Chicago. But that has nothing to do with the story; if you want to talk about Broadway you can email me or AIM or what have you. Bottom line is: This chapter is short and wimpy, and the character I promised to give you here isn't here yet, but WILL show up! Je jure! I just wanted to put something up now.

Big apology to give out: To all those authors who wrote fanfics that I read, and then mentally scoffed at because they were always begging for reviews. (Granted, you have no idea who you are, because the scoffing was mental, but so be it.) Guys, fanfic authors have no way of knowing who reads his/her story, how it's going, what's good, what's bad, or anything without your reviews! They really are unbelievably valuable to the writer. Feedback, advice, even just an "I love it!" or, "I hate it!" can make so much difference.

Aaaaaaaaaand the usual disclaimer: That Rowling chick owns Harry Potter and all of the characters mentioned here, except one. A character soon to be introduced (in the next chapter, I promise!), who will be instantly recognizable as not belonging to Rowling, belongs to Léa, a.k.a. crazygirl47, a.k.a. The Most Awesome Fanfic Writer in the Universe (or one of them, as I'm not sure I'm authorized to make that kind of judgment) who wrote the fanfic "The Prank War." If you don't read it, I will bite you. And not in a good kinky way. Because I don't like that kinda stuff. (Oh, and I don't own Kenan and Kel, because if I did, they'd spend a lot less time doing stuff like eating and sleeping and working and a lot more time performing their orange soda skit for me. Over. and over. and over again.

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James came back into the boys' dormitories, with Peter at his heels holding a jar of porcupine quills. Well, to the casual observer, it was just Peter sauntering through the door. But then James whipped off his cloak, and asked the other two boys,

"What's so funny?"

Remus and Sirius froze, and the maniacal grins vanished from their faces. "Er--"

"Well--"

"We were just laughing--"

"That's all, no illicit activities--"

"And I was drinking my root beer--"

"Because he loves root beer, you know, it's true--"

"It really is! I love root beer…" Sirius lost his flustered air for a second and disappeared in a reverie. "Who loves root beer? Padfoot loves root beer! Is it true? Mmmmmm hmmmm! I do! I do! I do…."

"Er, well, yeah. And," this was so weird! Remus, not being able to come up with a good, logical explanation? _Wow, this is really out of character,_ he thought to himself. _If I were a Harry Potter fanfiction writer, I bet I'd get no reviews. _(Although he didn't know what fanfiction is, because he didn't know that the Harry Potter books existed…hell, he didn't even know Harry Potter existed…. :Goes back to boring inside-Remus's-head narration duties: nevermind…) "well, I drank some, some of the root beer I mean, which is Barq's, which he loves, because he loves it, a lot," he mumbled and motioned to the mutated, burnt aluminum can (hey, you take a trip inside a love potion and see how you come out), "and I didn't like it, so, um, it went out my nose, because, er…well, werewolves can't drink soda, we're allergic, you see." He finished pathetically. "And Sirius started laughing at me, and he looked ridiculous, because, well, he _is_ ridiculous, and I started laughing, and you came in." (Apparently, Remus wasn't finished when he "finished pathetically." My bad.) "And the can is all gnarled because….er….because…. werewolf snot is toxic." He beamed weakly at the three boys, who all cast disbelieving looks at him, and winced slightly. "And. Well…that's that."

"'K then, Prongs, don't you have a potion to make and a girl to snog? Get to it! You don't have all day!" Sirius clapped his hands and rubbed them together, eager to distract the newcomers from Remus's incompetence at a good cover story. James cast his fellow Gryffindor an odd look, but nonetheless jumped (a rather careful jump, mind you) down onto the bed next to his cauldron, added a few more ingredients, the details of which are much too boring to explain (all right! I don't know them! Sue me! I mean…er…yes…), and started to murmur what _sounded _like intelligible English words, but was too quiet and fast to really tell.

"Lofmyilyrllytrlyshllbmeyenfrevrcooly…" was all Remus could make out amid the babble. Sirius cocked his head, true to his Animagus form, and Peter just dumped the quills behind James and backed away. Eventually, Sirius caught enough words to figure out what he was saying--

"A LOVE poem!" usually his laugh sounded like dog's barking, but this time he seriously rivaled a hyena on crack cocaine. "Oh, man, I wish I had a--the--what's it called? Tape quarter!" He was referring to a weird Muggle electric thing that took down peoples' words and then talked them back to you. "If Lily could hear this…"

The three boys slipped off into various daydreams while James, irate but not being able to stop the incantation, plowed on. Remus was thinking about how Lily would react, knowing that a guy had just referred to her as "Hotter than the sun, and really nice/truly the one, she is my vice--" he supposed she would throw something. He chuckled. That Lily.

Sirius was watching James intently. Man, that kid had determination…a girl had rejected him for six years, _six years, _and still he kept going at it. Unbelievable patience. Unbelievable. He grinned--that James.

Peter may be called pathetic, a coward, sniveling (well, that one was mostly reserved for Snape) and such, but he wasn't stupid. He'd learned about the device in Muggle Studies with Sirius--he knew that it was actually called a tape reporter. Everyone treated him like he didn't know anything, but he knew that professor Shaste, the Muggle Studies teacher, saw something else in him. She was really something else; she treated him differently. He sighed. That Professor Shaste…

"Sweet and benign, my lovely endeavor/if you'll be mine, be mine forever!" And with that, the lovestruck boy slammed the porcupine quills into the dancing potion.

Remus opened his mouth to tell James that he positively sucked at poetry, but at that moment he had to close his mouth again as he sputtered, coughed, and tried to work out what was causing that horrible stench, when they heard a brain-rattling, ear-shriveling, deathly,

_**MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**_


	4. P A C T

**A/N: **As this is the final week before school starts (ahhh! Freshman! High school:hides: ), I will try to get out as much of this as possible. In the beginning of September, postings may be sparse, but fear not, for all this craziness :taps head: has to go _somewhere…_

This chapter is dedicated to Paranoid Sarcasm, for making me laugh and jump around squealing like a guinea pig on crackafter getting my first review for this fic. And for just being awesome. It's also dedicated to Moony June, for pointing out to me that anonymous reviews were disabled. Oops… Thanks!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or anything connected with him. If I did, do you think Sirius would be dead? And also, the lovely Spirit that you get to meet here is courtesy of The Prank War by CrazyGirl47, who is awesomely awesome. That's all! Now ON TO THE MADNESS :charges:

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**Chapter Four: Posture, Actions, Tone of Voice, Choice of Words**

It was a scene of pure chaos. Everyone tried to decide whether to stay there and discover the source of the pandemonium or to run for it, and in the meantime a thick green smoke _hiss_ed out of the cauldron and ensured that no one could see a thing. Sirius would've yelled at whoever left out 3 tons of cheese to rot for five years (that's what it smelled like, at any rate) but he didn't bother opening his mouth because a) he wouldn't be heard over the noise of teenage boys running all over the room, knocking over books, tables, and each other, and b) his brain (yes, he does have one, it's just hidden under all that hair) caught up with him and forced him to realize it was _probably _the potion.

Meanwhile, James had taken a quidditch poster down from the wall and started to fan away the haze. Everyone wished that he hadn't, though, when they saw the source of the commotion: the disgustingly green potion had emptied from the cauldron, and in its place was something that looked like a reptillian dairy-midget from hell.

Imagine cheese. A _lot _of it. Entire wedges--of every kind: cheddar, brie, limburger, provolone, Swiss, mozzarella--you name it. Throw one on top of the other, until you have a massive cheese mosh pit/orgy. Then heat all of that up for a few minutes, so that they all mesh together and become inseparable. (This would also construct the smell.) After that, let it sit for about a month, to let it congeal. Now give it beady eyes and tens of shark-like teeth, but nothing else to suggest a face. That, my friend, would be the lovely creature we will dub, say, the Cheese Spirit. :cue the chorus of spooky OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH's:

Remus started and launched himself into the nearest person's arms--which just happened to be James's, and which promptly dropped the werewolf on his bum. Now, keep in mind, these are four teenage boys, only in the company of each other. According to the Teenage Boy Code of Conduct, Section four, Paragraph Nine, it is stated:

"Whilst in the presence of other teenage girls (for definition, see 'Females' section, page one, paragraph two), the Teenage Boy must keep up a manly front, which can be defined as such: Posture, Actions, Choice of words, and Tone of Voice, all of which must be demonstrated during times of panic. (In said times of panic, the Teenage Boy can remember these instructions quite easily: It's as simple as P-A-C-T.) (Thought I was gonna go for some weird acronym there, didn't you? Like A-S-S, or P-R-A-T, or some such….well, you're wrong; I'm too mature a writer for that.) (All right, so I couldn't figure out suitable instructions for T-W-I-T. Shut up. :Goes back to narrator duties: ) To avoid embarrassment, Teenage Boy must also act masculine in front of enemies, especially in times of panic--this includes hiding any weakness, affectation, or any human emotion that could be construed as fear."

James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus all stopped in their panic for a moment to consult the Teenage Boy Code of Conduct (they all kept a copy in their robes, just in case) and, concluding that there was no one else in the room, they all screamed like little girls.

"SILENCE!" the Cheese Spirit boomed, for lack of a better word, REALLY REALLY LOUDLY, and gave a rather Umbridge-like (though they didn't know this at the time, as Umbridge had not yet reached her true vileness) grin at the fact that he (She? It? Anyone willing to look at a Cheese Spirit's genitals to determine its gender, go right ahead…) had everyone's attention. With his English vocabulary seemingly spent on this one word, he proceeded to proclaim, "BOOGA BOOGA!"

Jaws--> drop. Sirius grunted out of the side of his mouth: "Don't….move….it….won't….notice….us."

Dear old Cheesy--gasp-- noticed this, and promptly lunged for the one who spoke. Black was (or seemed to be, anyway) prepared for this, and, having dropped his wand in the mayhem, steadied himself and prepared to take this Lactose bastard down--the Muggle way. First just the two of them, then James jumped in, then Peter, then Remus--it was a good old fashioned tackle-fest that Hulk Hogan would be proud of. (Even though he wouldn't, because he had no idea they existed…but that's not relevant. Hem hem.)

-Several "RAWR"'s, "I KEEL YOU!"'s, and smack-downs later…-

Peter clamped a lock--no, two locks--no, make that three-- on the previously empty wardrobe, and proceeded to slump against it as it rattled menacingly. The four boys had put up an amazing fight, but they had no idea how to permanently rid themselves of this demon. So, having had much practice on this procedure with unsuspecting first-years, they locked it in the closet. They were all exhausted, and chose to do what teenage boys do best--straighten themselves up and go down to dinner. It was when James looked in the mirror to tame his hair when he noticed…the _pink. _Everywhere. Every visible centimeter of skin was covered with a flaming fuchsia. Speaking of flaming…

For the second time that day, James whipped out his Teenage Boy Code of Conduct. Frantically turning to "Masculinity through Homophobia," he read:

"Screw what they say in fashion magazines--real men have never and will never be caught wearing pink. Any clothing material bearing this evil effeminate colour should be immediately disposed of, preferably through burning."

Normally, James would at least take its advice into consideration, but given that the evil was on his _skin_, he wasn't too keen on the idea of burning it off. It was then that he turned around and looked at his mates, all of whom sported the same shade as he. "Er, guys, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…" he motioned helplessly at them.

The other three promptly looked down, and wasted no time in screaming like aforementioned little girl. They were covered, absolutely _covered_--except for some areas where it was a blotched mix of fuchsia and normal skin color. Being the geniuses that they were ( :snorts: I mean…erm…), they sorted out that the pink was in the spots that the Cheese Spirit touched them. It was just now that they realized that having extreme contact with strange, smelly, deformed creatures who came out of cauldrons -might- not have been _such_ a good idea…


	5. Rain, Wood, and Baby Powder

A/N: REALLYREALLY sorry about the lack of updating; school just started and I'm getting freshman-it is (swelling of the homework). I just posted this to let you know that I'm alive, and as all the excitement dies down then I'll be able to give you more.

DISCLAIMER: -yells at J.K. Rowling- You have a _girlfriend,_ you have a _ring, _I have NAHTHING! Where is Leah's whore?

….I mean, book?

…..Ah, well, er, yeah. HPnotmine. And for that matter, I don't own Fez and his lovely quotes either.

**TA-TUM! I give you Chapter 5: Rain, Wood, and Baby Powder.**

"Yeah, the little bugger hexed us! So now we're pink for who knows how long," Sirius shrugged to his fellow Gryffindors, amazingly pushing the words around several huge bites of potato. The story seemed to go over surprisingly well with everyone; the Marauders were surprised but pleased. They didn't want to talk about it too long, though, so predictably James had turned the conversation over to Quidditch.

Suddenly, the Headmaster stood up, and silence smothered the Great Hall. His eyes twinkled (_damn his sparklyness!_ Sirius thought to himself) as he articulated: "Will Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black kindly join me in my office?"

A conspiratorial "_ooooooooooooooh!_" would have echoed through the room, but not even the Slytherins wanted to challenge Prof. McGonagall's stifling glare. The four boys shrugged at each other, all thinking, "we've gotten out of worse before," and filed out of the Great Hall behind Albus Dumbledore.

After a long and curious trek, they arrived at the gargoyles perched at the entrance to the Headmaster's office. The esteemed man turned around to face the boys and said, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Black, would you please wait out here; I need to talk to Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Lupin separately." Remus blanched a bit, but everyone complied and soon James and Sirius were standing in the deserted hall.

As always, they launched into a debate about the Quidditch teams at Hogwarts, but Sirius noticed that James was looking at him really strangely. His eyes had kind of glazed over, and he didn't seem to care what Jeremiah Junemare's weak points were. Finally, the black-haired boy gave up and asked, exasperated, "Prongs, you haven't been listening to anything I said! And you're looking at me way weird! What's wrong with you?"

James stared intently into Sirius's eyes, and slowly and deliberately said, "I just realized something, Sirius."

Now he was really starting to worry. "What is it, mate?"

Sirius had to give his friend credit. His voice didn't falter the slightest bit when he whispered, "I love you, Padfoot."

The bespectacled Gryffindor leaned into Sirius, their faces so close that he could feel James's hot breath skim the surface of his skin. _It smells just like I always thought it would,_ Sirius noted. _Like rain and baby powder and wood…_ Just then, he wondered if it would taste how it smelled. So, without thinking, without even noticing that he was in his own body, he opened his mouth and reached into Potter's with his tongue, running it over the smooth surface of his friend's teeth. James brought his hand up to Sirius's ebony hair, and moaned softly into his lips, _"Sirius…"_

Sirius shot up in his bed, panting hard (from fear, he assured himself, from fear) and, to his distress, saw that something else had 'shot up' and was now quite hard. **_ShitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitSHIT!_**


End file.
